Governor Newsomís secret conversation in his underground restaurant, where he entertained fantasies of becoming the next JFKóbut now heís on the recall ballot and his boyish grin is collapsing

The fakers are eating their own. Chomp-chomp.

by Jon Rappoport

April 29, 2021

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Governor, itís official. Recall. Theyíve got enough signatures to put you on the ballot.

Those morons! What do they think theyíre doing?

Trying to rip you out of office and set you loose on the street like a mutt. Itís time you took it seriously. Youíve been trying to float above it all.

Iím the goddamn governor!

So far.

Canít you say something positive?

You turned California into a shithole. What did you expect would happen?

Shithole? How dare youó

Look, Gavin, Iím your FORMER advisor. I just put in my letter of resignation. Iíve had enough. But I wanted to talk to you before I left, so I could give it to you straight. Without fear of repercussions. Iím gone. Iím a ghost. But there are a few things you should know.

Youíre resigning? Wait a minute. I need you. You canít justó

Itís done. Too late. Iíve been warning you I was on the edge. But you didnít listen. Besides, your problems are a lot bigger than me leaving.

Theyíll never recall me.

Why not? People are packing up and scurrying out of California in droves. The tax base is shrinking. The state budget? The last time I looked, weíve got unfunded liabilities verging on half a trillion dollars. The cities are rotting. Homeless camps everywhere. And you want to pay for more immigrants? Come on, Gavin. Youíre cratering.

The feds will bail us out.

For how long? The stunt you pulled at the restaurant without a maskópeople donít forget that. They were locked down, and you were happy as a clam. I know you want people to see your teeth and your smileÖbut come on. Your presidential fantasy is over. Youíre not going to become the next JFK. Nobody is.

Iím going to fight. Iím too young to retire.

How are you going to fight? By telling people thereís a new deadly strain of the virus and the economy has to shut down? Florida and Texas are booming. Donít you get it? The states are in competition with each other. Weíre losing. I was watching a baseball game in Texas the other night. They had 38,000 people in the stands. What have we got? A college track meet with two transgender groups of 12 people holding signs and cheering.

Weíve got principles.

Donít kid a kidder, Gavin. You care about you.

Youíre enjoying this, arenít you? I guess you were a traitor all along.

I was a political opportunist. Just like you. But I saw the end of the road. As now weíre there. Our limo is dead-ending in a pile of shit.

Youíre a quitter. Things get a little tough, you bail.

You fell for the COVID scam like you were Fauciís brother. Lock everything down. Play the prophet of doom. I told you over and over it was a bad idea.

I had my marching orders.

From where?

California and New York were supposed to execute a squeeze play. Move in from the edges and put the whole country in a trance. And it worked.

For a while. But now weíre getting the blowback. Even if you win against the recall, youíre a lame duck governor. Everybody knows it.

Youíre looking short-term. I hold markers. People owe me for my COVID work. I can go to Washington. Rehabilitate my career. Get an appointment as an ambassador. Work my way up to Secretary of State. Then Vice-President. After thatÖ

Youíre delusional.

Thereís a thing called destiny.

Wow. Really. How does that work? God has a plan for you?

The Universe knows where I fit. The Universe is City Hall. You canít fight it.

This idea comes from where? A weekend seminar in Big Sur?

People with insight.

I donít know who those people are, but your future isnít in California. If youíre talking about Mark Zuckerberg, and the time you two had tea and biscuits together, forget it. If you think youíre an operator, Zuck has you beat six ways from Sunday. He uses people like paper plates, and dumps them in the garbage.

Bill Gates and I have an understanding.

He understands that heís Stalin and youíre a little officer in the KGB.

I locked down California! Thatís what they wanted, and thatís what I gave them.

For that, you get a pension and a free pass to Disneyland. More governors are figuring out the COVID test scam. The numbers are cooked. A guy with no symptoms whatsoever and a false-positive result is suddenly a ďpandemic case.Ē Itís complete fiction.

Weíll go with the mutant strains. Thatíll scare everybody.

Youíre behind the times, Gavin. Day by day, Fauci is earning his stripes as a laughingstock. The man canít keep his story straight.

He told me I was a warrior in the cause!

Coming from a buffoon, thatís not exactly an endorsement you can take to the voters. Youíre living in March 2020. The frigginí NFL is going to play their games in full stadiums this year.

Not if I can help it.

If you shut out the Rams, Chargers, and Niners fans, you think theyíre going to repay you with love? You squeezed their balls. Now theyíre going to squeeze yours.

You donít understand. Youíre lost in the details. This is the big picture Iím looking at. The New Normal, the Great Reset. Thatís where the action is. Brave New World.

Maybe youíre right, Gavin. But along the way, the heavy hitters have to throw a few bones to the crowd. And youíre a bone. Your political death will satisfy the crazed mobs for a little while. Donít you see it? Youíve been set up to take the fall. You and Cuomo. Crunch, crunch. The wild dogs are having you for lunch.

I know too much. The show runners canít just thrust me aside. I know some of their secrets.

Stop right there. That kind of talkíll get you discovered by the cops, face-down in a Malibu tidepool. Keep your college-boy mouth shut, Gavin.

I was just venting. Didnít mean it.

I want to go on the record and say I have no secrets. I know no secrets. I know nothing about purported case-number scams or unnecessary lockdowns or vaccine deaths. Itís all conspiracy crap. Are we being recorded?

You never know. But donít worry. I would never try to lay blame on you. Even though youíre bailing on me in my darkest hour, I stay loyal. Of course, you could reconsiderÖ

Listen, Governor. I have a little black book on you. Dates and places and other restaurants where you sat around with your pals and nobody was wearing a mask. And that $30 billion in Pandemic Unemployment Benefits? The missing $30 billion that went to criminals gangs in foreign countries, because you couldnít figure out how the hell to distribute it? That scandal could resurface again. I have some interesting reports I could share with the Times.

You do that and Iíll bury your precious ass. The divorce, the custody battle, the hookers. Youíll be lucky if you can get a gig picking up garbage on freeway exits.

Really. Suppose the good citizens of California knew that, at most, seven percent of so-called COVID cases in the state were real cases? How would that play, especially when people learned youíd been briefed on it by those epidemiologists at Stanford? Donít try to screw with me.

Those guys are crazy. No dice.

The Lancet doesnít think so. Neither does the New England Journal. Itís all about how the publicity hits the media. Remember, Mr. Good Teeth, thatís my job. Doing PR for you. I know how to rev up media. And that high-speed rail project you shut down? The construction union has 450,000 members. Maybe I should revisit the story and breathe life back into it. You know, the human interest angle. The rail worker who lost his job. His family fell apart. When COVID hit, he was locked down. He started drinking, finally committed suicide. Had no life insurance. His wife and her two kids are living on the street.

Calm down. Take a breath. Weíve been friends for a long time. Iím not going to torpedo you, youíre not going to launch a missile at me. This is ridiculous.

Of course it is. Weíre not two scumbags threatening each other. Weíre brothers-in-arms. Hi-Ho California. Itís still the land of golden dreams.

Okay, we have a problem. My political future is on the line. At least it looks that way on the surface.

The deeper you drill, the worse it gets, Governor.

Whatever. The point is, weíre in this together.

Weíre in a Mexican standoff.

Please. Try to look at the positive side. I want you with me. I donít want you to leave.

Then you have to open up the California economy. Faster. Before it sinks into the Pacific.

There are too many eyeballs watching me. Important eyeballs. They want economic destruction. How are we going to get around that?

You sold out to them, Gavin. Itís not on me.

The FUTURE is whatís important. A new world. To get there, we have to destroy the old one.

Thatís somebody elseís idea, not yours. Face it, youíre short on ideas. You always have been. Your specialty is generalities. Youíre basically playing the role of a Yuppie, in a time when all the Yuppies are gone.

Drop the jokes. Do you have a strategy for getting us out of this trap?

I have lots of strategies. First thing, weíll set you up for a meeting in Washington with Susan Rice. Sheís pulling a lot of the day-to-day strings on Biden. Heís lucky if he canít get from the bed to the bathroom without radar.

What will I tell her?

Youíll spell out the untenable situation in California. Youíll ask for her advice. We want to see what sheís got. Donít just listen to her words. Listen to the tune sheís singing. Does she think youíre still useful, or does she intend to throw you to the wolves? Weíll go from there. Tell her you have a plan for bringing major corporations to California, but theyíll need serious federal money, loopholes, write-offs, tax breaks. Make the plan sound real. Say you can send her the details.

Makes sense. Good.

And start listening to me, Gavin. Iím not just throwing crap at the wall. Youíre in the political fight of your life. This is not going to be easy. Weíll have to invoke some serious partnerships to work our way out of the hole.

What partnerships?

We need money. Lots of money. To inject every which way into the state economy. Itís our only hope. And weíll have to hide most of it, so no one knows where itís coming from.

Wait a minute. Youíre talking aboutÖ?

Whatís the biggest state industry thatís off the books?


Thatís right. Shit. Drugs. My cousinís bank can put together the meetings for us.

With theÖcartels?

Two cartels. They handle most of the freight.

So youíve been a busy boy.

Iíve been looking out for you, Governor. Itís all about you.

Sure it is. How much have you personally been raking inó

No time for that now. We need to structure and formalize our arrangement with the cartels. And when we sit down with these people, youíll have to drop your college-boy persona. No smiles. No teeth. No hail-fellow-well-met.

I can get tough, donít worry.

Yeah, you can try to impersonate a corrupt cop on Blue Bloods. Forget that. Just think of it as business. Youíre a dry businessman. Itís all about numbers and details. Are you with me?

Are you with me?

Weíre stuck with each other, Gavin. So letís go to work.

I knew I could count on you to help preserve my career.

Climb down off your high horse. Stop trying to hustle me. Iím not some liberal putz from San Francisco.

The Matrix Revealed

(To read about Jonís mega-collection, The Matrix Revealed, click here.)

Jon Rappoport

The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free NoMoreFakeNews emails here or his free OutsideTheRealityMachine emails here.